


on valiance, time, and the weight of her crown

by valiantqueen



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, and remembers the queen she truly is, in which lucy finally accepts the weight of her crown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantqueen/pseuds/valiantqueen
Summary: lucy is thirteen- twenty eight- years old when the world rushes past her in a blurand she is finally, finally, home again.the weight of her title no longer feels like a burden,no, it seems instead to be wings on her back.it is easy to be valiant in the world you call home.
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Kudos: 33





	on valiance, time, and the weight of her crown

**Author's Note:**

> written for narnianetwork's voyage 14.

**i.** lucy is ten- twenty five- years old 

when she tumbles out of the wardrobe to land painfully 

on her knees.

this body is smaller, weaker, unused to the weight of a sword, 

and her too-small hands are pale and bare of the freckles she knows so well,

with none of the calluses that she’s fought so hard to earn.

the weight of her title falls heavy on her shoulders 

like atlas holding up the world.

how can one be valiant in a world that will not treat them as such?

**ii.** lucy is thirteen- twenty eight- years old when the world rushes past her in a blur

and she is finally, _finally_ , home again.

her body is still small and weak, but with every hour she spends on narnian soil it grows stronger.

freckles dot her skin, 

and her hands are beginning to callus again.

the weight of her title no longer feels like a burden,

no, it seems instead to be wings on her back.

it is easy to be valiant in the world you call home.

**ii. (a)** when they leave again,

peter’s eyes are sad 

and susan is crying 

and edmund is trembling 

and lucy, small, valiant lucy, is gripping her sister’s hand with an intensity that hurts.

as they pass through the door

she feels that weight settle over her again.

this time, she pushes past it.

**iii.** lucy is fifteen- thirty- years old when english paint becomes the glistening eastern sea that she rules over.

she is still small, but not weak- she has never been weak, 

not since she passed through that fateful door a year ago.

there are new calluses on her hands, and her skin is dyed with english freckles.

her title is no longer a heavy weight on her back, 

but neither is it a pair of wings on her shoulders.

_valiant_ rests on her head as a crown, 

wreathed in laurel leaves and yarrow flowers,

heavy as blood-soaked ropes

and yet as light as a Lion’s breath.


End file.
